A Relationship In Tea And Petulance
by Arthur Poutdragon
Summary: Or "Five Times Descole Broke Into Layton's Office, And All The Times He Didn't". For a prompt on the meme that asked for Layton/Descole fluff.


**i.**  
>The first time he'd broken into Layton's office - breaking the lock on the window and climbing in - Layton had seemed surprised. Not<em>shocked<em>, per se, just... mildly surprised. More like he'd not expected it to happen _then_, rather than that he hadn't expected it at all.

"...tea?" he'd prompted after a moment, further confirming the idea that the man had at least half expected it. Ignoring Descole's baffled staring, he'd just turned away and started fussing with the teapot.

Descole had fled before Layton could turn around. Layton's reaction had been unexpected enough to leave him wrongfooted, and Jean Descole did not _do_ wrongfooted.

**ii.**  
>The second time, the lock on the window had been replaced, but it hadn't been locked. Through the glass Descole had been able to see two cups next to the teapot. It had... rattled him. Jean Descole did not do rattled, either. He'd left again, although he'd maintain quite firmly that this time it was definitely <em>not<em> fleeing.

**iii.**  
>The third time, Descole had hung around outside, waiting until Layton had left the university. Whether or not the man could predict Descole's arrival - and now that he'd had time to think about it, Descole had decided with great certainty that he had only over-thought it the last time and Layton had done no such think - it didn't change the fact that he locked his office window when he left for the evening.<p>

He'd taken a childish amount of pleasure in breaking the lock again. It had hardly been the worst crime he'd ever committed against Layton, but it would inconvenience the professor at least somewhat, and it wasn't an act likely to be foiled like all the others. Stepping through the window, he'd dropped down carefully on the floor and looked about, only to have his attention drawn by the fresh cup of tea set upon the desk. Incredibly fresh, in fact; when he moved over to examine it, he'd found it still scalding hot. Layton was the most infuriating man he'd ever had the misfortune of coming across, Descole had decided then and there.

The tea had been perfect, Descole had had to admit. He'd made a point of tipping the dregs onto Layton's desk afterwards to be petulant, and trying to tell himself that he believed Layton would actually be inconvenienced by it. Truth be told, he'd rather suspected that Layton would be mildly irritated, if anything, and even more likely just vaguely amused by it.

Nevertheless, it had been something he could commit against the other without Layton _stopping_ him, and - petty or no - time and experience had proved that such acts were few and far between. Descole hadn't intended to let the chance pass him by.

**iv.**  
>The fourth time, Descole had been hovering around outside - again waiting for Layton to leave - when the professor had instead thrown open the window, leaned out, and called, "I know you're out there, Descole, so for the sake of the lock on my window I'd appreciate you coming in <em>now<em> instead of breaking in the moment I'm gone."

He'd hesitated, true, but it had still been almost embarrassing how quickly he'd acquiesced to the request. Climbing in once Layton had moved away, Descole had watched the other set about making tea. "...I don't want any," he'd bitten out when Layton had turned to him. Had sat down with his eyes averted to avoid the appraising look that Layton had been giving him.

"So," Layton had started, once he was settled with his tea, "Is there any particular reason that you've been breaking into my office, Descole? I'd half-suspected you were gone for good, after our last encounter."

"And evidently, I'm not," Descole had said then. Had paused and then looked away again, eyes fixing on a point outside the window. "Why I'm here... well. I have... come to accept that you won't fall beneath me, Layton. I couldn't help some curiosity about a man who could best me at every turn, and so here we are."

Layton had stayed quiet for a few moments, and Descole had been able to feel again that appraising look that made him want to move away, leave, anything to avoid it. He hadn't come for judgement; he'd come for... well. Curiosity, he could claim, but in truth he hadn't been able to put real words to why he'd sought Layton out, not even in the confines of his own mind. After the silence, though, Layton had simply shrugged, the movement catching in the corner of Descole's eye, and said softly, "Here we are indeed."

Nothing more had been said during that encounter; Layton had simply finished his tea and then returned to his marking in silence, and Descole had taken the time to let himself relax in Layton's presence and examine the office from his vantage point on the sofa. Even with the silence, even with the... prior history between them, the time had been almost companionable, and by the time that Layton was ready to go, Descole had relaxed enough to doze lightly with his chin against his chest. He'd jolted awake at the sound of Layton moving around, then stood slowly and moved back over to the window.

"You could actually use the door this time," Layton had suggested, but Descole had only chuckled before dropping out of the window again.

**v.**  
>The fifth time, Descole had made an effort to break in before Layton had actually arrived for the day, so that when he had arrived he'd been greeted by the sight of Descole on his sofa again, sipping tea with an air of forced casualness. He'd arched an eyebrow at Descole, and the other had just gestured to the steaming cup of tea still sat by the teapot. "I helped myself," he'd said, the very image of calm, and Layton had just snorted and murmured something that sounded very much like <em>so I see<em>.

Again, silence had fallen between them as Layton started on his work, but this time Descole had kept his attention fixed on Layton himself rather than his office. Had catalogued little things in his mind - again blaming it on mere curiosity about the man who had defeated him, because it was simpler than trying to actually think about how drawn he was to Layton and why - that he'd never had the chance to truly examine before. The way Layton's tongue flicked out when he was concentrating, the way he seemed to try to hold his cup with a pinky out - ever the proper gentleman, Descole had thought, snorting to himself - but would forget himself if he thought nobody was looking.

Eventually, Layton had put aside the last paper in the stack, and had then turned his eyes to Descole for a long moment before turning away again.

"I'm... glad that you're back," Layton had said softly, with the air of someone confessing to some great sin. "Like I said the last time, I almost thought you gone for good. It wasn't... a good thought. If you had been gone I think I'd have blamed myself for it, and rightly."

"It would take more than you to best me to _that_ extreme," he'd answered. Had kept the tone lighter than the words had the potential, because truth be told he hadn't been aiming to _insult_ Layton so much as reassure the man. "But curiosity about you wasn't enough to convince me that I ought to let you see me at anything less than my best."

That had gotten him that appraising look again, and Descole had found himself resisting the urge to shift uncomfortably under the gaze. Just as he'd been getting close to jolting up and leaving just to avoid bearing it any longer, however, Layton had commented, "You let me see you at less than your best every time prior to this."

It had been enough to rile Descole up, mouth falling open to retaliate when the comment had processed enough to stop him in his tracks. Layton hadn't said that _this_ wasn't his best, after all, only that the times in conflict had been. His mouth had twisted abruptly into something between a smile and a smirk, and he'd said, "Really now, Layton, a man does his utmost to kill you at every encounter, and still you assume the best of him."

"The curse of a gentleman, I'm afraid," Layton had answered with an easy laugh, then added, "And if that was your utmost, then attempting to kill me certainly wasn't showing me your best skills, Descole."

It had been enough to start a conversation that, like the silence of the previous meeting, had been almost companionable; like two acquaintances - even friends, perhaps - meeting after time apart, rather than like a university professor talking to the man who had tried to best and even kill him at every turn.

Descole had definitely not enjoyed the company, he'd maintained as he'd left, through the door for once. Any further meetings, he had added, would simply be for the purposes of satiating his curiosity about how such a clearly unremarkable man had managed to best him.

"Certainly," Layton had agreed amiably, stopping him only long enough to press a key into his palm before he left.

**vi.**  
>After those times, Descole hadn't broken into Layton's office again. The key he'd been given was to the window, and he'd found that he couldn't really class it as breaking in when he'd actively been given a key to facillitate it, even if that key <em>was<em>for the window, rather than the door.

He'd managed to maintain his air of disinterest for nearly six months of daily visits before he'd given in and kissed Layton over their morning tea.

"And how are you explaining that one?" Layton had asked breathlessly after they'd broken apart.

"Mere curiosity as to how long you can maintain your gentlemanly facade," Descole had answered easily.

If Layton had laughed before pulling Descole into another kiss... well. Descole certainly couldn't blame him.


End file.
